Forced
by Meaghan26
Summary: Jack educates James on piracy. No slash. Full summary inside. Rated T because that's what the movie is rated, but it's harmless, really. oneshot for now, but a second chapter is planned.


Jack educates an injured James on how one becomes a pirate. Post-DMC. No slash. How James got injured and found himself aboard the _Black Pearl _is up to you. Some spoilers for _Dead Man's Chest_. All this great stuff is owned by Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer. First fic.

I wrote this one night when I couldn't sleep at 3 am. I had to crash at a friend's place, and his dog was lying on top of me (big black lab), and I had consumed way to much caffine. And lo! A story! I'm having trouble formatting this how I want it to look, so I tried to switch to html mode and I got scared. Heh... hence the dpdp...

dpdpdpdp

The cabin door creaked open. The intruder attempted silence, but James Norrington's well-trained ear caught the soft footfalls. Twenty years of viciously guarding his own personal space had taught him well.

"I hear you, Sparrow." The quiet shuffle stopped. James pictured the look on Sparrow's face, most likely surprise, astonished that a "soft" officer could have such excellent hearing.

"Ah, you've caught me, Commodore."

Why Sparrow always insisted on calling him by rank always puzzled James. Maybe it was some sick form of mockery, using his respectable position as an insult.

"To what do I owe the… _pleasure_ of your company, Mr. Sparrow?"

"Just checkin' up on me patient, 'sall. Makin' sure you didn't go and do something stupid, like die."

"I assure you, Mr. Sparrow, I am quite well. I've suffered broken ribs before. It's merely a discomfort. But I must thank you for your… unexpected kindness in letting me recover in your quarters." The last bit had been in earnest. Sparrow chose to sleep with his crew, allowing James the slightly more luxurious accommodations of the captain's quarters. Maybe James hadn't been entirely correct about Sparrow.

The pirate did no respond. James heard more footsteps, and then a soft creak. The bedside lamp lit; Sparrow had seated himself in the chair next to James's temporary bed. Sparrow's dark eyes studied James, sweeping over his naked, bandaged torso. James felt suddenly vulnerable; Sparrow sensed this and quickly snapped his eyes back to James's. He cleared his throat, an uncharacteristic nervous gesture, and held up a brown leather folder.

"I found this in your coat."

"Ah, of course, you went through my things. Though what else should have I expected?"

Sparrow dismissed the comment and continued. "Got this from Beckett, I assume? So very nice of him, givin' you this."

"The contents of that record are none of your business."

"Yes they are."

"Why, pray tell?"

"Because they're lies."

"Sparrow— "

"Ah, lay still, Commodore. We might need you later. Can't be damaging them ribs some more. Now, where was I…?"

Defeated, James lay back with a sigh as Sparrow untied the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of parchment inside with flourish.

"'The record of John Andrew Norrington, employee of the East India Trading Company, captain of the merchant vessel _Wicked Wench_. Current status: assumed deceased. Lost at sea. Presumed victim of piracy.' Hmm, interesting." Jack shifted his eyes back to James, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, my brother's record, given to me upon request by Lord Cutler Beckett."

"Wanted some closure, did you?"

"Wanted a fresh will to fight pirates."

Jack smiled softly and leaned back in his chair. "Of course. You're determined to hate pirates because they've wronged and loved one, and therefore you, in the past. You've found a way to get your revenge, and here you are aboard a pirate ship, unable to get that revenge. Just like Will. 'Cept, the whelp's at least come to terms with the fact that in fact, not all pirates are devils, black sheep, or really bad eggs."

"Sparrow, what has this to do with my brother's _allegedly_ false record?"

Jack leaned forward, just inches from James's face. In a soft voice he answered, "I know what _really_ happened to your brother."

James bolted upright, only to wince in pain. Jack didn't try to settle him back down again, instead helping him to sit properly. "Did you know him?"

Jack did not answer James's question; he simply replied, "I myself worked for the East India Company." He stared at the floor a moment, searching for the proper story to tell. "You know, Commodore, piracy is a funny thing."

"I would say it isn't." James narrowed his eyes, not wanting to hear a cock and bull tale about the good side of piracy. However, he stayed silent and let Jack continue.

"Just as not all pirates are the same, something you haven't grasped yet, not all pirates become pirates in the same way."

"Jack, is this story going to be comprehendible, or am I going to be left sitting on this bed trying to translate your words into proper English?" A funny look crossed Jack's face at the use of his Christian name, something that James couldn't quite place. It quickly passed as Jack flashed a toothy, golden grin.

"I'll try to be as clear as the Caribbean, for your sake, though it's not in my nature."

"Dishonest, right?"

"Exactly. Well now, Commodore, you've broken my somber mood!"

"By all means, Jack, be glum again." James's use of Sparrow's name again did the trick, and the shadow again passed over the pirate's face. He paused, dark eyes focuses on James.

"Not all pirates want to become pirates. Some do, leaving behind comfortable lives with not but a sense of adventure, looking to fulfill some romantic childhood dreams, like our friend Miss Swann. Others accidentally find themselves amongst pirates and then accept the lifestyle, like Will. Others still have nowhere else to go, either lying drunk around godforsaken places like Tortuga, or they're in need of money, like the unfortunate Bootstraps. Some are forced."

"Forced?"

"Aye, forced. Not as in needing the money or shelter and therefore forced to find work in piracy, but _physically_ forced. Pressed against his will."

"Like my brother."

"Aye, like your brother."

James's eyes narrowed at the thought of John, knife at his throat and whip at his back, slaving aboard a pirate ship. Jack noticed the look of horror in the younger man's eyes.

"I know what you're thinkin'"

"What?"

"That he was pressed into the crew of some dread pirate, taken prisoner, made a slave."

"Was he not?"

"No."

"What, then?"

Jack reached out his right arm, placing a warm hand against James's right elbow. James felt the heat radiate into his skin, the calloused fingers holding him in a light grip. Jack continued.

"He was pressed from the other side."

"And what is that suppose to mean?"

"The very same man who forced John into piracy also forced _me_ into piracy." Jack squeezed lightly, prompting James to turn and look at the hand gripping his elbow. By the flickering lamplight he saw the _P_ shaped brand on Jack's wrist. He raised his eyes to the dark ones. He knew that there was a look of utter horror on his face. Jack saw it, and something like disappointment crossed in his features. James composed himself and swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Is he still alive?"

Jack broke into the biggest smile James had ever seen. "So you accept his fate, then?"

"Is he still alive?" The smile faded as James persisted with his question.

"And well." Jack released his grip and stood, leaving the lamp lit and John Norrington's record on the bedside table. "We'll chat some more tomorrow, Commodore. Until then, get some rest."

He crossed the room and was about to open the cabin door when James's voice stopped him.

"_Jack_…" Jack looked back to see James still sitting up, mouth agape.

"Tomorrow, James." And he slipped out the door.

dpdpdpdp

The _Wicked Wench_ stuff can be found on Disney's_ Dead Man's Chest_ website. It's pretty interesting, and adds to this story a lot. :) Thanks for reading my first fic! Constructive criticism is appreciated. I proofread it myself several times, but if you noticed any formatting or grammatical or mechanical errors, please let me know! kthnx


End file.
